By Polanie Club
Published 1948
We are the stranger sons,
the prodigals, we have returned.
We are the lonely ones
who always sought for you and yearned.
We found the ancient gate,
the ancient house our people fled,
and friendly hands that wait
to serve us wine and salt and bread.
And what we have endured:
that hunger in our hearts since birth,
their smiles and words have cured.
O Black Madonna bless their hearth!
—Alan Edward Symanski
"Against Death in the Spring," 1934
From Anthology of Polish-American Poetry, 1937
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